


Impossible Thoughts

by astudyinweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Hogwarts, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 17:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinweasley/pseuds/astudyinweasley
Summary: Five times Ron Weasley wanted to kiss Hermione Granger - and the time he finally did.





	Impossible Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd post an old story I'm rather fond of while I'm trying (not very successfully) to work on something longer to publish here! Originally published on my FF.net account.

**i.**

* * *

Insides burning with jealousy, he sees her dance, her glittering turquoise dress gliding behind her as she twirls, and he wishes he was the one up there with her. He wants her to himself.

This is crazy. He tries to shake off his turmoil as brotherly feelings; it's  _Hermione_ , one of his best friends, and he's never looked at her in that way. Hermione likes books and essays and boring spells. But the girl in front of him is nothing like the Hermione he knows; she whirls around the dancefloor without a care in the world, the light catching her shining smile as she giggles. Letting loose becomes her.

He was so sure she was lying about having a partner earlier; how could anyone possibly have realised that sensible, straight-laced Hermione could transform into the goddess before them in a matter of hours? Ron kicks himself over and over again.  _Why didn't I ask her sooner? Why did I let that Bulgarian prat get in there first?_

Viktor Krum has never done anything to deserve it, he knows that. But Ron's brain can't escape the desperation to hurt him, to punch him in the guts, to rip his head from his shoulders. He's too old for her. He's Harry's opponent. He'll take advantage. He must have an agenda. Ron could write a list of reasons as long as his own arm.

It's not about that, though. It's about Ron and Hermione. It's about the fact that he wants to take her in his arms, sweep her off her feet, drag her into a secluded corner of the grounds and kiss her until the sun comes up.

He can't, though. She'd never want him.

* * *

**ii.**

* * *

He keeps thinking  _thoughts_  about her. More-than-friends thoughts. Thoughts that he would never reveal to his mother.

Often, they come up at the most inappropriate times.

"Ron, will you stop leaving your homework until the last minute and expecting me to help you with it?" Hermione huffs as he hands over his History of Magic essay for her to scrutinise.

"Sorry," he says, distracted; their hands touched and his heart hasn't quite recovered from skipping a beat. "You're just so much better at essays than me."

He sees a glimmer of a smile on her face. "Yes, but you'll never learn this way."

As she scribbles corrections all over his work, he gazes at her. Her face screws up in concentration. You can almost see the cogs turning in her brain as she works out what to edit, and eventually her face transitions into an expression of peaceful satisfaction as she finds the perfect fix. It's beautiful to watch.

Suddenly, she frowns. "Ron, it's not finished."

"Oh, I know, I was just hoping you could kind of… sum it up for me at the end?" The truth is that he's written absolutely everything he knows about the Giant Wars.

"No, Ron," she says, getting out her tape measure.  _Oh no_. "You're almost a foot short!"

"Well I don't know what you expect, you know I spent that whole lesson playing Exploding Snap under the table with Harry," he tells her foolishly.

"Then _you'd_ better not expect me to finish this off for you!" she says furiously, shoving the tape measure back into her bag and folding her arms.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron pleads. "You get Outstanding for every essay, it can't be that hard for you to whip something up…"

"I can't believe you said that!" she almost shrieks, thrusting Ron's essay back into his hand. "I get good grades because I work hard; there isn't some kind of magical formula! I'm never doing this for you again!"

The way her eyes flash, the way her hair goes wild and surrounds her head like some kind of mad halo… she's sexy when she's angry. He wants to grab her and run his hands through her curls, kissing her until they forget their own names, let alone the reason why they fell out.

But they're just thoughts. Impossible thoughts. It would never work between them.

* * *

**iii.**

* * *

Giggling all the time, Lavender pulls him by the hand as they search for somewhere more private. Ron's whole body has puffed up with pride: he played well today – the best ever – and what's more, he has just spent the past half an hour snogging a girl. He's never even had so much as a peck on the lips before. He has to keep checking he isn't dreaming.

They reach the door of what looks like a deserted classroom and Ron's heart starts to thump in his chest at the prospect of more kisses and whatever else they could get up to, but then…  _oh_.

The classroom is not empty after all. Harry is there, accompanied by the worst person who could possibly be there at that moment: Hermione.

Why was he so quick to shoot her down for believing Harry's trick with the Felix Felicis? Ron fell for it himself. He lashed out at Hermione before he could stop himself – maybe he's oversensitive, but when people don't think he's good enough, it gets to him. And Hermione irked him earlier in the day, being such a spoilsport. So what if Harry did whatever he needed to do to make them win?

But right now, he would take it all back. He looks at Hermione and he can see the hurt in her eyes, the hurt that he has put there. Tear tracks lining her face, she looks more vulnerable than he has ever seen her. He thinks about how different it could all have been if he held his tongue. He was finally getting somewhere with Hermione – they were even going to go to Slughorn's party together.

What if it had been Hermione that he was wrapped around in that armchair in the common room? His stomach flips at the thought of finally holding her in his arms and kissing her, touching her, celebrating with her, and it would feel so much better than it did with Lavender because he would actually mean it…

As he looks pleadingly at her, right into her eyes, her expression hardens.

"Oppugno!"

Ron cowers as the flock of vicious birds descends on him.

He's blown it now.

* * *

**iv.**

* * *

It's actually happening. They're on the run.

Breathless, he thinks over everything that's happened today. The horrifying ending to his brother's wedding, being chased and attacked by Death Eaters in London, being confronted by the enchantment on arriving at Grimmauld Place… Ron knew that they would be leaving soon after the wedding, but he never imagined for it to happen in the way that it did. Sitting alone with Hermione in the living room while Harry gets ready for bed, it's the first chance his brain has really had to go over everything.

He looks towards Hermione and is shocked to see a single tear streaking down her cheek.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" he asks, rapidly crossing the room to sit on the sofa next to her.

"It's nothing," she says, wiping the tear away hastily. "It's just been a long day."

"I know." He pats her gently on the shoulder, his heart jumping a bit at the close contact. He thinks back to earlier in the day at the wedding, remembering how irresistible Hermione looked in that dress and how surprised but pleased she seemed when he asked her to dance. In those few joyful moments before the Patronus came and changed everything, Ron danced and daydreamed about what it could be like if things were different. They could be going back to Hogwarts as boyfriend and girlfriend…

Hermione's voice brings him back to Earth. "Ron," she begins hesitantly, "we're going to be safe here, aren't we?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so," he says, taken aback. It's usually him that asks Hermione questions, not the other way around. "There are all sorts of protective enchantments around this place, aren't there?"

"Yes, you're right." She sighs. "I just can't work out how those Death Eaters found us. It makes no sense."

"Dunno, but we can stay here until we have a plan. We'll be okay," Ron says, his voice getting stronger as he starts to convince himself, too.

Slightly more confident, Hermione squeezes his hand. "You were wonderful, stunning that Death Eater at the café earlier."

Ron can barely believe what he's heard. "Thanks," he mumbles as his ears begin to turn red. "Nothing compared to what you did though. Those memory charms were ace."

Then Hermione begins to cry in earnest, and Ron has no idea what to do.

"Hermione, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you," he says, putting his arm all the way around her and pulling her into a hug (his heart leaps into his throat).

"I know," she says, wiping her eyes. "It just… I know it's different, but modifying their memories reminded me of what I did to my parents."

Of course. Ron hasn't given much thought to how that must feel. Having his family in the middle of the war is complete agony, and in a way he wishes they were on the other side of the world and out of harm's way too, but Hermione has no idea where her parents are. The Death Eaters could have found them and done all sorts of unspeakable things to them. Hermione might not even be able to find them again once this is all over. (If it's ever over.)

"You did the right thing," he tells her gently. It's all he can think of to say.

"Did I, though?" she asks, pained, and Ron can tell that this has been bothering her ever since she did it.

"You're Hermione Granger. You don't know how not to do the right thing," Ron says, trying to lighten the mood, and Hermione looks up at him and smiles weakly.

As they look deeper into each other's eyes, the smile leaves Hermione's face and another expression replaces it, something that neither of them can put a name to yet. Hardly daring to breathe, Ron moves his hand down Hermione's back and follows his instincts, which are screaming at him to move in, to let her know that it's all okay, to kiss her like he's never kissed anyone before…

The door creaks and Harry enters the room; they spring apart before their lips can even touch.

The spell has been broken. The moment is gone.

* * *

**v.**

* * *

"You – complete – arse – Ronald – Weasley!"

She punches him on every inch of his body, and she won't stop yelling at him, but it feels different from before, different from their normal arguments. She's furious, but he just knows that she'll come around, because he has hope now. The voice,  _her_  voice, guided him back to where he belongs, and now that he's there with them, they can do anything. They can win this war.

And it was  _her_  voice, not Harry's. That has to mean something. He almost grins as she continues to hurl insults at him and he just takes it. He doesn't even want to argue back; she still looks sexy when she's angry. But much as he wants to snog her senseless right there, he doesn't think that's the best way to get back into her good books.

It's all about timing.

* * *

**vi.**

* * *

After Hermione drops her pile of Basilisk fangs and races towards Ron, he is too stunned even to respond when her lips first crash onto his.

_Is this really happening? Has she really liked me all this time? Is it really me and not Harry?_ The thoughts buzz around his head like pesky bees until he realises how ridiculous he's being.

He kisses her back.

All the paralysing fear from the battle is ripped from his mind as he loses himself in the kiss, and it's like they've transported themselves into a world of their own. Somehow, the thing that he thought impossible is happening. His senses are heightened – he's never felt anything like this, never felt so alive, and he gets a shiver in every nerve ending as Hermione's hand travels up his back. He runs his fingers through her hair, her beautiful, unruly hair, and somehow the kiss deepens even more. It's a daring kiss, a desperate kiss, and they have this to fuel them, but it's also a long-awaited kiss. All of the bottled-up frustration, pain and, dare he even think it, love from over the years make themselves known in the moment, and Ron forgets where they are, what they were doing, who could be watching…

"Oi! There's a war going on here!"

Harry's words tear them from their dream world, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore.

"I know, mate, so it's now or never, isn't it?"

He catches Hermione's eye, grinning, and she looks as radiant as he feels. He doesn't know what it is, because rationally he knows it's more than likely that all three of them will die tonight, but somehow he feels untouchable now.

Somehow, he knows that their first kiss will not be their last.


End file.
